Haunted
by Drakon Sword
Summary: Many lives have been lost at the Last Battle – many hearts also broken. Harry finds himself in a position between life and death, but refuses to reveal himself to anyone till Dumbledore discovered him. Does Harry stand a chance of a life again? *UPDATED
1. Part 1

Haunted

by CJ May

aka Drakon Sword

e-mail: drakon_sword@yahoo.com

(Please use this e-mail. I don't use drakonsword@yahoo.com, but ff.net wouldn't let me sign up again with my real e-mail)

**Pairing:** Harry Potter x Severus Snape

**Warnings:** Slash, Angst, Language, Lemon (only at snitchfiction.net), OCCness (time causes changes – physically and mentally – so this is up to be safe), AU (hey! None of us know what's going to happen, ne?)

**Rating:** overall R, but it is NC-17 on snitchfiction.net 

**Disclaimer:** Honesty! Would I be writing this if I owned HP?

**E-mail:**  GOTOBUTTON BM_1_ drakon_sword@yahoo.com

**Summary:** Many lives have been lost at the Last Battle – many hearts also broken. Harry finds himself in a position between life and death, but refuses to reveal himself to anyone till Dumbledore discovered him. Does Harry stand a chance of a life again?

**Author's Notes:** Okay. None of us know much about ghosts, but I'm going to make up shit as I go along. I believe in spirits, but since they are supernatural, much of the truth about them is unknown – you know, Ouija and such. 

Anyway, not much else to say other than, read and enjoy! Plus, I love ya forever if ya leave a review at the end of the chapter!** : )  **

**~*Part 1*~**

            The lonely figure dressed in long black robes moved silently through the rows upon rows of grave stones on the field. His gnarly fingers that were wrinkled with age, occasionally reaching out to brush the gravestone of one he once knew – whispering their name into the breeze.

            The field was covered with the stones that marked the dead that lay below it. The rows stretching wide and long – seemingly to have no end to them. Though the old man seemed to find the one he knew so well and stood in front of it, clutching the dark hood around his face closer as the wind picked up at little.

            The gravestone was tall and beautifully craved and chiselled into an angel that was covered with white roses that twined around the plaque at the pedestal and curling around the small, bare feet of the angel with spread wings of victory, but face smoothed with the sorrow and respect that it held for those who had died and done what they had felt was right. The roses always bloomed –  even in the snow because of the spell that was placed on them since they were first planted. The spell and the roses continued to survive the five years since they were first placed there and growing with such beauty. Almost as if they were growing and using the strength from the magic the young man who was buried there had. 

            The hooded figure looked behind the tall and decorative one to see one very much like the one he stood in front of, but darker and craved as an angel of death and destruction while the other was of light and hope. The dark angel had its head bowed in defeat as it took its place behind the victor, the bright angel.  

            Bowing in shame and hiding in the shadow. 

            The land and gravestones behind the tall white rose clad angel and beside the dark angel were hidden in shadow were they sat in shame of the sins and deeds they had done till they finally found a resting place on the battlefield where it had all finally ended.

            "I wasn't sure you would come." A voice said as the young man appeared beside the hooded figure. He voice calm, holding his youth, but also weighted with the maturity and experience life had wrought him from a very early age.

            He was much older than he seemed.

            "I always come, you should know that by now." The hooded figure responded, not bothering to turn as his old voice whispered to the young man's ears.

            "I know. But I guess I've gotten used to the loneliness so much that I don't expect you to ever return. No one, but yourself, comes this day on the anniversary – too much sadness. Too many memories." The young man murmured as the old man reached out to the gravestone and stroked the white rose with the tip of his wrinkled index finger.

            "You have kept them well." He commented lightly.

            The young man smiled and reached out to touch the rose, but stopped a few inches away, remembering that he couldn't.

            "How do they feel?" The young man asked, pulling his hand back and holding it with his other transparent hand as the old man straighten and turned to the young man. The old man's twinkle that was often in his blue eyes was along faint because of the oppression of the field and the sorrow he felt every time he looked at the young man -- ghost -- before him.

            It lessened in time.

            Yet it would never go away.

            "Like smooth silk." The man finally answered and the young man gave a small smile as the cool wind blew around them. The old man's clocked flapped and fluttered, but the young man's didn't even twitch. 

            "It's been five years. Five years since Voldemort was destroyed and we lost so many lives – including my own. The numbers are great, yet I am the only ghost that haunts this field. I don't like being alone." The young man whispered in the wind and the old man longed to put his hand on him to comfort him, but knew he could not and settled for looking into his eyes. They were no longer the sparkling green, but the bluish silver tint of being of a ghost. All washed out and no colour as they seemed to float on thin air.

            "It is fitting that only The-Boy-Who-Lived be allowed to haunt these fields. He lived, breathed and thought nothing more than the day he lost his life." Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry, replied.

            "Ah yes. Quite true, I suppose." Harry sighed as he gave a weak smile. He then reached up to remove his glasses and casually whip them with his robe which was rather humourous since nothing was on the glasses to begin with.

            "Does anyone else know?" Albus murmured as he watched Harry.

            "No."

            No, no one but Albus knew that he was a ghost. Harry at first didn't know he was a ghost and thought himself just a spirit, or guardian as he floated around the gravestones, watching as loved ones came to grieve for their lost loves – even his own lover came one dark night to pay his respects and thus planting the roses that now grew around his grave. 

            That was a painful time for Harry.

            He was lonely.

            He had learned to deal with the loneliness, knowing that it would be easier for them all if he remained gone completely. It hurt him, but it was the only way. However, Albus had come to visit on the fourth anniversary of the battle – a day that no other dared to visit the dark and deary place – and saw Harry as a ghost, stroking the gravestone of a lost friend, murmuring his regret.

            Albus had visited at least once a month since he discovered that Harry was a ghost and kept his promise to keep Harry's new form a secret. Harry was still certain that one day Albus would not return – because of death or other various reasons that he did not like to consider – and Albus found that he had nothing to appease or destroy the boy's concern, other than to visit often.

            "They miss you, Harry. Everyday I know they think of you at least once. Today when I left, I could see their unhappiness, despair and sorrow. They would by joyful to hear that you are as you are. It is better that death and to be completely separated. You can still offer comfort and companionship in this form, Harry." Albus implored as the ghost sighed longing as he walked – half floated – away.

            "That isn't the point, Albus. I miss them. I love them, but it would make it harder to know I was this way – not easier." He shook his head and he old professor took a deep breath.

            "You cannot haunt these fields forever." Alnus admonished, knowing that it was partly the guilt and regret that held Harry to the graveyard. Harry feared leaving the place and he feared people getting to close so they would be ripped from them again.

            Harry's death had been as painful for him as it was for others.

            Now as a ghost he realized how removed he truly was.

            "What would I say if I returned to them, Albus? Oh! Hello! I thought I'd dropped by and say that I was a ghost so you can still talk to me, but don't touch me – you'll fall through me, maybe feel a bit of a chill!" Harry mocked, his faced taunt in a scowl.

            "There is more to love than what is physical, Harry." Was the light response that caused the ghost to glare.

            "I know that! But I can't stand to see them the way I'm not. Not to be able to enjoy the things I once did.  Not to be able to play Quidditch. Not to be able to -- " Albus watched as he sallowed heavily, " – to touch." Harry tuned his head away. "How can I – how can I looked at him and not long for the days when I was alive when I could touch him. How I could make him feel passion and feel his loving touch in return." Harry bite his lip as a tears threatened to crest over his bottom lids as he voice croaked. "What if he is with another? I can't fault him if he is. It has been five years, but it'll hurt just the same." Harry voice was hoarse and Albus couldn't help, but feel for the boy.

            "Harry – "

            "I can't, Albus. I want to, but I can't. Maybe – maybe another day. I am getting sick of the place and I do want to go home, but don't ask me of this till today. Ask me next time." The ghost croaked and Albus sighed before nodding.

            "I understand." Albus turned to leave, knowing that they had come to the end of their visit. Sometimes there were long and others were short while others they said nothing. "He still loves you and he always will. He hasn't so much as looked at another." Albus murmured into the wind and watched as Harry straightened his back, but didn't turn. 

            With a sigh, the old Headmaster went to continue his way out of the deary, dead place, but was called back.

            "Albus."

            Albus turned slightly to regard his old student as the ghost fiddled slightly with his fingers while watching his old advisor that he loved like a grandfather – also hating him for the same reasons.  

            "I will see him again. I love him with all my heart. Just – just not today." Harry sighed, shaking his head and Albus understood. This day was a day that no one was happy. It was declared a national holiday in the Wizarding World.

            Not that anyone did anything anyway.

            A day to celebrate the victory, but also a day to mourn the dead.

            "I shall see you soon, young Harry Potter." And with that he left leaving the ghost to his thoughts and considerations.

**~*TBC*~**

**A/N: **I'm back~k! 

Yes be afraid. Actually, since I've been kicked off as CJ May, I returned to my online name Drakon Sword. I promise to behave *holds left hand up* and to keep my fics that will be posted on ff.net to be only R content even if there is people who have NC-17 fics on ff.net under R. *mutters* Lucky bastards . . . 

However, I still write NC-17 content stories and you will find them on snitchfiction.net and soon to be on fandomination.net – later to be other various ones as well. 

Anyway, as long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

Smiles : )

CJ


	2. Part 2

**~*Part 2*~**

            Albus sighed feelings tired after the long day. It had been a month since he been the battlefield and he was planning to visit Harry again soon, but he still wasn't sure what to say to convince Harry to come back.

            They had been rumours that people had seen Harry haunting the graves at the field. Probably when Harry wasn't aware that he was a ghost and made himself visible when he wanted to comfort people, or when he was grieving at a friend or loved one's grave. However, Harry was only ever seen on the anniversary, thus people came to the idea that it was Harry's time to grieve and if he was a ghost -- it was his day to haunt, thus no one visited that.

            All except Albus.

            Albus was treated with the same reverence as Harry. Only those two people were allowed to walk along the graves being the ones that destroyed Voldemort and saved them all. However, also making sacrifices – Harry's life being the great one.

            Albus knew nothing of this and found himself curious and decided to come around eleven a.m. instead of noon when the battle had officially ended after 3 long days. Harry being used to seeing his Headmaster at noon was doing his own visiting of the graves and not seeing the Headmaster till he was beside him.

            Harry was surprised at first, but then angry for being so careless. Harry hadn't wanted anyone to know of his demise. He believed it would be easier for everyone to handle his death as it was and continue on. Albus wasn't fooled though. Harry had also done it for himself. It was too hard for him to see people living as he wished he could. Harry didn't want to die on the field, but knew he would. Harry had longed to have a life of normalcy when Voldemort was gone. He just wanted to settle down with his lover and find peace in the place he felt that he belonged.

            However, it was ripped away like many had feared and others had hoped.

            Now Harry was a ghost and he hated it.

            No one understood the way of spirits and ghost – not even themselves. Albus could never begin to explain why Harry was a ghost and no other of the hundreds of people that had died on the field, weren't. The way of the ghost was a mystery to begin with. 

            Albus saw the pain in all of Harry friends every time he was mentioned or something reminded them of him. They all felt like they had failed. Albus, himself, also felt it, but Harry being a ghost changed that. As much as Harry was depressed, he could also help close the doors that were still wide with regret and pain that lie in others, but that was only when Harry could do it for himself – which he maybe able to do if he came back.

            Harry death was hard on everyone, but now Harry could offer friendship and companionship if he came back. He could still offer his soul and that was all that mattered. 

            Harry just had to see that first.

            Albus opened his office door, knowing that he still had some papers to sign before dinner and found himself slightly surprised when he saw the bluish transparent figure sitting in one of the chair across from his desk.

            "Harry." Albus murmured as a smile of great warmth and the twinkle in his eyes were enough to blind a person and show his happiness of Harry's arrival.

            "I decided it was time." Was all Harry said with his own smooth smile. Harry knew it would be hard, but haunting the place he considered home would be better than haunting the cold and deary battlefield. 

            "I'm glad. I was planning to visit you after dinner, but it seems I don't have to." Albus sighed as he seated himself behind his desk and Harry stood up, starting to pace with nervousness and worry.

            "After you left I did some thinking. I may not be able to touch anyone, but for Merlin's sake, I can offer everything else and I more than willing to share that! So I can't reach out and touch people, but words soothe the mind. And besides, I'm tired of seeing nothing but unhappiness. I want to see people laugh again. I want to see people smile. I want to see the world that I fought to save happy again." Harry finished as he longingly looked out the window.

            "It is good that you see that, Harry." Albus said, stippling his fingers and Harry turned to him with a knowing smile. Harry knew that was what Albus had been trying to tell him for an entire year.

            "May I stay and haunt Hogwarts?" Harry asked, politely and Albus laughed.

            "Of course, my boy! I think you would be a nice addition to our resident ghosts, don't you think?" Albus asked with a hardy chuckle that soothed most of Harry worries.

            "I came now because of the weekend. That way I have two days to . . . to see everyone again." Harry murmured, running a hand through his tousled locks.

            "A good idea, Harry. Hermione Granger-Malfoy is our Muggle Studies professor and as you know that she married, Draco Malfoy, who is now our Defence Against The Dark Arts professor. Ron Weasley is our Quidditch instructor. The Weasley twins still own their joke shop in Hogsmeade. Sirius is a free man and continuing his career as an Auror with Remus and the teachers that taught you still remain here as they always have. Including Severus." Albus explained because Harry had refused to hear most it all before. Not wanting to know what he was missing.

            Harry winced slightly as if he was pained when he spoke Severus' name. Out of all the people he would see, his lover, Severus, would be the hardest.

            "I suppose I should see him first?" Harry asked, sounding sad and slightly frightened at the thought. Which he was because he wasn't sure how Severus would react. Harry was afraid of rejection. Just because Albus said Severus hadn't looked another person, didn't mean Severus wanted to see Harry again.

            "It is up to you, Harry." Albus replied, simply with his smooth voice that betrayed anything that he thought. Harry smiled wryly at the voice.

            "Though I would be able to see them on my own?" Harry asked and Albus sighed, considering for a moment.

            "I suppose, but I would like to announce your arrival tomorrow at dinner at the latest. The students won't be there, but I think it's important that all the staff know at once. Students can learn later, but if you wish to see Severus – you should do it soon." Harry sighed at those words, knowing that he must see his lover before. It would be rude and unwise to let the person who meant the most to him, be forced to endure him with people speculating.

            Besides, Severus was a very private person. Whatever must be said, must be before hand so that Harry knew where they stood.

            "Does his last class end the same time when I was a student?" Harry asked as he stood up and Albus gave a small reassuring smile as he looked up at his pupil – proud to see the Gryffindor trait of courage, honesty and righteous shine through.

            "Yes. You will wait till then, won't you?" Albus asked, knowing it was needless and Harry nodded. 

            "I think I will watch him –  invisibly of course -- while he teaches. I haven't seen him for so long. He only visited once, you know. He planted those white roses for me." Harry whispered with his head bowed.

            "He did it because he dislikes public places as you know. To Severus, you are in his heart and that is all the matters. I think he also considers the fact that very few people knew of your relationship. It never had a chance to become public." Albus murmured and Harry nodded with a weak smile.

            "I know and I understand. Most people only did visit once. Graves are impersonal, but memories and places that the person loved are proper places to visit. No one can mourn forever." Harry sighed, shaking his head.

            "You were going to."

            Harry closed his eyes. Yes he mourned everyday for what he lost and the people he felt that he had failed. His friends and family.

            "But I have a lot more time to waste, don't I?" Harry said, humourlessly as he face bore a mirthless smile. "I shall see him, Albus. I only hope that all you've said is right. I don't want to hurt them – I only want to have peace and give them peace."

            "Do as you wish, Harry. I wish you the best." Was all the Headmaster said and Harry took a deep breath before walking through the wall to go down to the dungeons. Albus sighed, rubbing his temples knowing that a lot of chaos would be the first reaction to Harry's ghost form.

            The press was going to go nuts.

**~*TBC*~**


	3. Part 3

**~*Part 3*~ **

            It was when Severus Snape was marking tests as the 6th year Slytherins and Gryffindors  made their potions, that he was sure that he could feel someone's eyes on him – familiar ones. However, when he looked up, he only saw that all his students were busy doing their work like he demanded.

            No one misbehaved or wasted time in his class.

            He couldn't help the half smirk that curved his lips as he watched the two boys that were well-known rivals glared at one-another. Severus wasn't fooled – one of them was up to something.

            It was funny how every few years a couple of students for opposite houses – always Slytherin and Gryffindor, it seemed – would become rivals for various reasons. Two little groups that would spar off at one-another every given chance. Amusing how sometimes in the end they ended up as good allies and eventually good friends. 

            It reminded him of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

            That was a painful thought.

            Severus scowled at himself, angry, and quickly went back to marking the poor excuses for tests -- it seemed that no one studied. It hurt him every time he thought of Harry. It was supposed to get better, not harder --  yet it seemed to, anyway. 

            Harry haunted him.

            To that day, Severus could never really explain how it started. Though, Severus could safely say he had Dumbledore to thank – whether good or bad, he wasn't sure. Once the 'Order of The Phoenix' was in full throttle, working against Voldemort, he and Harry had to become close whether they liked it or not.

            Of course, it was push and shove for a longtime as Harry struggled with all the pressure at his young age and Severus with having to keep the boy safe and keep his illusions with the Dark Lord believable. It wasn't fun for either of them, but shields started being dropped because of sheer exhaustion and reluctantly they became closer as they slowly learned about the other. 

            They were a lot of tight scraps where the boy was barely alive and Severus was barely able to save him and keep his act as a Death Eater up. 

            As much as Severus belittled and mocked Harry, he was slowly falling.

            Severus could rationalize various reactions he had for Harry all he wanted, but the fact still lay that he wanted the boy. It was pure unadulterated want and lust with a hint of need. Harry felt the same and it wasn't till Harry graduated that they finally let themselves be purged in the other.

            It went slowly from there for the next 4 years before Harry's death at the last battle where a lot of soldiers and warriors died – including Severus' heart.

            They got closer and closer till they found themselves so deep in the other that there was no going back – not that they wanted to. They had each found the one that they loved and they knew that because they were each willing to fight the world to keep them.

            However, it seemed that fate had other ideas.

            Severus wouldn't deny it. He love – correction – loved Harry Potter.

            Though that didn't seem to matter anymore.

            Severus could proclaim it all he wanted, but it would never bring the young man back. He was gone as Voldemort. Severus would never forget the overwhelming joy as the Dark Mark disappeared, but at the same time he felt the pull of despair, knowing that his love had also been taken away. It seemed unfair. Life was unfair, but life was like that.

            With a flick of his quill, Severus stood as Lloyd Jerkins, a Slytherin, and Phillip Johnson, a Gryffindor, started to argue. Narrowing his dark, onyx eyes Severus quickly solved the problem with a lash of his tongue.

            "What is the meaning of this?" Severus hissed as he came before the two boys. Both flinched, but only Lloyd turned to face the Head of the Slytherin House.

            "Johnson was trying to sabotage my potion, sir."

            "I was not! You were trying to – !"

            "Enough!" Severus commanded and instantly the two went silent. Severus gave each a measuring glare that wouldn't give them any clue to what he had in store for them -- other than it wouldn't be good. To be honest, he wasn't completely sure what he would do, but he had an idea. Besides, they didn't know that. "10 points from each house for disturbing my class and each of you can wait at the end of the period. I would like to have a word with both of you." With a flick of his robes, Severus went back to his desk as the two students went back to their friends and potions, grumbling under their breath.

            It was then Severus was positive he felt a cool touch on his cheek, one that traced up his cheekbone like a ghost of caress that was so familiar that it caused the small ache in his chest as he slowly turned to look to his left to find nothing but empty space.

            With a frown, Severus went to his desk and sat down as class proceeded to continue fairly smoothly.

            It wasn't till the bell rang and the students left in their usual hustle that he found himself folding his hands as he eyes the two boys that say before him on either side of the room behind their desk.

            Phillip Johnson was looking down at his hands, much like Harry did whenever he got in trouble with Severus – Severus mentally shook that thought away, not wanting to dwell on that anymore though it was likely to return when he was alone in his rooms later that night. Lloyd Jerkins sat with his shoulders back, back straight and was staring at the opposite wall with a calm, cool face much like Draco did when he was the same age.

            It felt like deja vu allover again.

            "I assume you both know why you are here." Severus didn't bother making it a question – they knew. They always did. "I am, frankly, becoming sick and tired of these little games. You are both 16 and have a year and a half of school left. These childish games will not be put up with as they have been here for the past few years, in the Wizarding world." Severus said, sternly. His voice cold and holding a slight bit of malice to get through their thick skulls.

            However, Severus pretty much figured it was going in one ear and out the other.

            Neither boy responded, or moved.

            "I have considered a punishment for both of you and decided that since you cannot stand one-another, it will be punishment enough to have you work together." Severus felt a little sadistic glee as they both winced at his announcement. "There will be no detention this time. However, you will work together for the rest of the year and any more problems between the two of you, you will both serve detention together and I plan to inform all the professors of this, understood?" Severus continued, giving them each a measured look.

            "Yes, sir." They responded together.

            "Good. Now off with you." Severus growled and flicked his hand at them. Together they scrambled for their books and slipped out the door. It wasn't till the dungeon door slammed shut that Severus sighed, reaching for a temple.

             "I guess it never stops, does it? For as long as time they will always be a rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

            Severus visibly started at the voice. He recognized it as he looked upwards with wide eyes to see the young man he taught, risked his life for and eventually feel in love with.  

            Harry.

            Severus didn't move and hardly breathed as he looked over the ghostly flesh of the man who once bore human flesh. He lacked all colour other than the white, bluish tinge that of a ghost. However, the once emerald eyes still held the love that was only for him and the lightning shaped scar still rest on his forehead under a lock of hair, proving that the ghost was indeed Harry Potter.

            " . . . _Harry_." Severus hissed, not believing what he was seeing. He was thankful that he was already sitting down because he would have fallen as the colour and blood ran from his face – he felt slightly faint with shock. Even though Severus was a wizard and lived with ghosts, he still had a hard time gripping the fact that Harry was indeed a ghost and currently floating before him.

            "Severus." The name was like a stab in the heart, yet a physical caress.

            Harry was truly there as a ghost.

            Silence flittered between them as they looked at the other. Neither wavered, nor was either one of them certain for what they were looking for – let alone what to say. It had been five years of pain and longing, yet now that they had a chance, neither knew how to use it. 

            ". . . you're a ghost." Severus whispered, his voice a bare hiss. Harry barely heard it, but looked away from the intense onyx eyes. It seemed that Severus didn't know how to feel, but all the emotions that were threatening to burst were all very strong and overwhelming.

            "Yes." Harry nodded, standing before Severus, who was still sitting behind his desk and gripping the arms of his chair. "Not by choice, of course. However, fitting I suppose. The-Boy-Who-Lived can never truly die, can he?" Harry said with a small smirk, but regretted as he watched the pale face start to redden with anger.

            "Don't _ever_ say that!" Severus growled and Harry winced at the stern, unquestioning voice he knew so well. 

            This wasn't starting off so well, it seemed.

            "How long?" Severus asked softly after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Harry dumbly felt like an insolent child as he clasped his hands before him, looking at his feet – almost back in his school days.

            Harry looked up quietly into the eyes of his lover and saw the betrayal mixed with anger and sorrow. Harry knew he was asking how long he had been a ghost – though of course that was obvious. Since his death, but Severus was asking how long Harry, _himself_, knew.

            You see – ghosts often don't know they are ghosts. Everyone becomes spirits, but few become visible ones that are called ghosts. It isn't till someone tells you that you know you are a ghost – thus why Harry believes to be alone on the field. Spirits of the dead could very will be there, but he is the only visible one, thus considered to be the only one haunting.

            "I don't know – 4 years? Of course, Albus found out a couple of years ago." Harry sighed, knowing that would not impress his lover. No one was going to be happy to find out how long he had been in this state and told no one.

            Albus was also going to receive a little anger as well.

            Harry was right. Severus glared at the ghost as he narrowed his eyes. Harry distinctly felt like shifting under his gaze. Harry could handle Voldemort, but Severus' – rather Snape's glare could be quite cold and unforgiving.

            "Albus knew?" Severus demanded and that's when Harry knew that Albus was going to get a yelling – or at least the silent treatment for awhile from the Potion's Master. 

            Severus dealt with his anger silently like all Slytherins -- revenge was sweeter.

            Gryffindors tended to be more vocal and open about their anger. Once finished their rant, it was over and everyone was okay again.

            Severus' anger was quieter and tended to be deadlier than most.

            "Not by choice, mind. He came early one day and caught me." Harry murmured, shrugging and still feeling the dull ache of anger toward Albus for that. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't seen, yet was that good or bad?

            "Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he bring you back?" Severus demanded, his onyx eyes flying with rage, yet Severus was still calm on the exterior.

            "I told him not to. He promised not to tell if I made myself visible and visited him when he came and we were alone." Harry replied, steadily even though the look he received from Severus hurt him more than words could ever attempt.

            "You planned to hide away and never reveal yourself forever?" Severus demanded, his eyes flashing as he clasped his thin, graceful hands into tight fists. Harry didn't respond, feeling it unwise to say so. Yet it was just as unwise not to respond.

            Or at least, Harry found it as such.

            Harry winced as Severus' heavy chair screeched along the stone, cold floor of the dungeon as he stood. Severus gripped the edge of his desk as he looked down at Harry – he was still 6 inches over Harry's 5'10'' height and always would be. Severus obviously felt angry enough to feel the need to intimate Harry.

            Funny that Harry was dead, but still felt fear as he faced his most hated professor, but most cherished and loved lover.

            "And Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived hid? The man who faced and won over Voldemort? Even faced death! And here I thought Gryffindors were supposed be the embodiment of courage. Such disgrace." Severus snarled and Harry looked away to the side, unwilling to let his lover see how much pain the words gave him. 

            It was almost as bad as his glare of betrayal and hurt that spoke of pain beyond his own.

            It also spoke of contempt and hatred.

            Yet also of love.

            "I may have been placed in the house of Gryffindor, but you and I both know that I wasn't the perfect Gryffindor. There was too much Slytherin in me – and that is what helped me win. I had enough courage to face my death and accept it, but I had enough Slytherin cowardice to run and hide when I found myself in a place that gave more pain to others that I loved then to myself." Harry whispered, his voice echoing off the bare walls of the dungeon.

            At first, Severus made no reply as he watched the ghostly figure before him. He felt such betrayal and anger toward the ghost before him, yet he felt so much sorrow and love that he found himself confused and perplexed at what he should do and where he should go. 

            "Why?" Severus asked, taking a deep breath as Harry began to walk with light, soundless footsteps to the side counter where some supplies layout still dirty with various ingredients and needed to be cleaned. Severus spoke not a word as Harry timidly reached out, his hand hovering over the tools, but never touching.

            "Do you know what it is like to look, but not to touch?" Harry asked, not bothering to answer Severus' question. Harry's voice was barely over a murmur and his voice hard to hear for Severus since his back was facing Severus.

            "Once upon a time, I was a child, Mr. Potter." Severus replied, somewhat scathingly. Though inside he was beginning to shake, half-knowing where Harry was going.  

            "To want to hold it so bad, but unable to. To watch as they move in the physical world touching and experiencing while I also roam in same word, but as a dead person and unable to touch. To long just to taste, feel and touch again. To have a lover that you love with all your life moan in the pleasurable passion that you exchange with them – whispers of devotion also leaving your lips as their long fingers leave hot trail along your skin." Harry continued as if Severus never spoke. Severus watched as Harry shook his head. "That is why I never returned, Severus. I thought it would be easier – for you and me. That you would be as dead to me as I am now."

            " . . . then why are you here?" Severus asked, shakily. His rock-steady voice was lost as he stared at the back of the ghost he loved, feeling the pain and understanding it.

            "Albus told me that love wasn't only physical – which is true. He explained that companionship is just as important in love as is the actual physical act. I know this, of course, we had a mental and spiritual relationship before we participated in the actual act of love, but . . . it hurts to look at you and know that I can't touch you. It hurts not to be able to give you that pleasure. It also hurts that I can't give you everything you need and watch you, and everyone else, whither away – it was better that I stayed dead to the world." Harry mumbled as he dropped his hand back to his side.

            "Harry . . ." Severus reached out as he stepped toward Harry, but found he had no words to say.

            What could he say to comfort Harry?

            Especially when he needed it as much as Harry did?

            "I know you are mad – everyone will be. I had dilemmas to deal with and my own demons to face. Albus waited for me to return and I have. I plan to haunt Hogwarts, the only home I've known. I know there will be many angry people, but all I ask is for friendship." Harry turned to Severus. He stared at the unsteady, out-stretched hand till Severus let it drop back to his own side. "I want to be with you again, Severus. I love you and I want you anyway that I can. Tell me what to do and I will do it."

            " . . . I . . " _I want you back in my arms, Harry_, Severus thought. _I want you back in my bed. I want to hear your moans of passion. To feel you warm, perspiring skin against my own as I show to you how much you matter. I want to whisper my devotion in your ear. Hold you when you have nightmares and know that we would grow old together. I didn't want you to die – not without me. I don't want to be alone. _

            "I don't want to be alone, Harry."

            Harry swallowed happily as Severus spoke the words. He felt instant relief that Severus did not want to shun him. That Severus did want him – even if he was a ghost!

            " . . . Severus." Harry whispered, passionately and heatedly. Severus reached out, but quickly put it down when Harry's eyes closed in pain.

            "I am angry and I need time, but don't leave, Harry. I need you and I want all that I can have. Just – just don't ask it from me now." Severus continued with a deep breath, feeling the utter tiredness in his very bones. He could feel the dull throb of a pending migraine at his temples.

            He was in for a lot of strain.

            Emotionally, that was.

            They all were.

            "Of course." Harry agreed easily, thinking of how Albus had done the same to him. He sighed and started to walk to the door.

            "Harry?"

            "Yes?" Harry answered, turning around to see the concerned, onyx eyes of his lover. They were almost panicked with desperation. Harry felt the instant urge like he had done so many times in the past when he saw that look to cradle him in his arms before a warm fire and cool brandy as they talked – or let Severus talk about the horrors and worries that rest in his mind.

            Yet, Harry stopped, knowing he was unable to do so. Not to mention, he was the cause of the franticness in his eyes.

            "Don't leave. Stay." It was a stern commanded that Harry had no intention or breaking. Harry nodded and gave one of his cheeky grins.

            "Of course, Severus. I'm not going anywhere. Why would I want to pass up the chance to annoy you at every corner?" Harry asked, feeling much more light-hearted. Severus mocked growled -- or at least, Harry hoped so.

            "Potter – !" Severus warned, but was unheeded as Harry ran out the door – or rather right through, since he was a ghost – leaving Severus to mumble to himself.

            Though Severus couldn't help, but give a small smile.

            Maybe things were getting better.

**~*TBC*~**

**A/N:** Please leave a review. My writing career lives off of them. : )


	4. Part 4

**~*Part 4*~**

It wasn't till after a glass of soothing brandy that Severus found himself before the gargoyle that he had been to see many, many times in his life. Some he would rather forget because of the situation, but behind the gargoyle was a person he could trust – a friend.

            And his worst enemy.

            There was no doubt that Albus was a great man and a powerful wizard, but sometimes Albus was just a _little_ too aware of the fact.It's not that Albus was conceited – no, Albus was simply aware of his abilities, strengths and his faults. Albus Dumbledore just had an uncanny ability to see more then you want him to know.

            Severus glared at the gargoyle with his onyx eyes, twisting his lips distastefully as he thought of the conversation he was about to have with Albus. He wasn't called, but Severus wanted to bring up some of the – the latest events he was not brought aware of till recently.

            "Skittles." Severus grumbled, rolling his eyes at the latest Muggle candy Albus had discovered and thus had created a new addiction for the next few weeks.

            The man's obsession with candy was . . . . disturbing.

            To each his own.

            Severus walked up the stairs to the office door and raised his knuckles to rap of the oak wood, but – of course – just as his knuckles made contact with the wood, the weathered voice of his old, trust friend floated through.

            "Do come in, Severus. I was expecting you."

            Severus gave a small snort as he turned the knob, walking – rather stalking – into the office with a swish of his black robes. The man was a regular fortune teller – or at least, he lead you to believe as much. There was no doubt that Albus was a old and wise – not to mention, powerful – wizard, but Albus was more then aware of Harry's arrival, so there would be no surprise that Harry's next visit would be to greet his lover and of course, he would come up to bring his recent complaints to Albus.

  


            Maybe he was just predictable.

            "Albus." Severus gave a terse nod as he stood before Albus' desk as the old wizard smiled warmly to him.

            "Please have a seat." Albus waved his hand causing the far chair – the one that Severus considered 'his' and 'his' alone – to float over to him. Severus sat down, adjusting his robes slightly, but not letting his glare waver from Albus' wrinkled face. Albus didn't seem to notice – or was too used to it by now. "Tea?"

            "No thank you." Severus answered, but of course, was unheaded as Albus proceeded to have two cups of the hot mint tea poured from the brown teapot. Severus loved mint tea and Albus knew it. It was Severus wink spot and couldn't help as his nose gave a little twitch as the scent of fresh mint wafted up to him.

            "There you are. Any reason to this visit?" Albus asked sipping his own tea as Severus cup and saucer floated before him – waiting for him to take it.

            "You are many things Albus, but naivety isn't one of them. Besides it doesn't become you." Severus quickly replied as he quickly snatched the cup of tea from the air before him with his long, slim fingers.

            Albus simply hummed in response.

            They then sat in silence for a few moments.

            "Well?! Do you have anything to say for yourself?!" Severus demanded as he clutched his cup and saucer – feeling the heat through the cup burn his fingers causing them to go red as he knuckles went white.

            "I did what I thought was best, Severus." Albus replied, his blue eyes soft, but stern at the same time.

            "And why was that, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Severus glared. Albus sighed, hearing his title – Severus only used that in front of students and when he was deathly displeased with Albus.   

            "Harry was lost. Having any communication with him, myself, was limited. I didn't tell you in fear of losing him all together. By telling you I would give you hope and it may have ended up fruitless. There were no promises of what would happen, thus I kept it to myself to I had something to work with – till Harry returned to Hogwarts's. To his home. To us." Albus replied, his voice heavy with the guilt and fear he had.

            Albus had seen how torn Severus was – even if others didn't. Severus kept it all inside. If Albus had told Severus of Harry predicament, he would have gone to seen his lover and thus may have caused Harry to disappear from everyone for good.

            Thus Albus, kept it a secret till Harry came back fully and decided on his own to go and see Severus. That way it was at Harry's own pace.

            Of course, Albus gave the occasional nudge here and there.

            "You seem quite certain of the fact he would return." Severus stated after a few long moments of thoughtful silence.

            Albus heard the undertone – Severus knew that Albus knew more and was silently demanding that Albus to tell all.

            "Harry would return to you. He loved – and still loves you. You are his life – ghost or not. I knew that eventually he would come for you, me, or at least himself. I am glad that it was sooner rather then later." Albus continued as he sipped his tea.

            "Albus don't play games with me." Severus narrowed his eyes. Albus hid his smile behind his tea cup as he met the glaring, onyx eyes.

            Carefully, Albus set his cup down on the saucer and pick up a biscuit – brushing the crumbs from his bread as he chewed. Severus' glare just turned up a few notches with impatience.

            Severus was a patient man, but never seemed to be with Harry.

            Not with anything to do with Harry, or Harry, himself.

            "I don't think Harry is a complete ghost – not in the traditional sense." Albus finally said, after thinking about how he should explain it. Severus instantly calmed and arched an eyebrow with interest.

            "There isn't a lot on ghosts to begin with." Severus replied and Albus nodded, gravely.

            "Yes, but there is one thing that remains common – they have no contact with the physical world." Albus stroked his bread as he leaned back his chair.

            "Neither does Harry." Severus frowned, remembering how Harry had explained his longing to touch the physical world – Severus himself. Also how he had longed to touch Harry, but knew it was impossible.

            "When he is conscious of the fact." 

            Severus didn't bother to question as his eyes caught the blue twinkling ones of Albus Dumbledore, obviously waiting for an explanation.

            "Harry is a ghost, spirit, or however you want to describe it, but he had abilities that no other ghost has. When Harry is conscious of the fact he is a ghost, he acts and treats the physical world as if he was one. Exactly how we have learned and seen each ghost react with the world around them. 

            "However, when Harry is too busy thinking or talking about something that he forgets he is a ghost and subconsciously is able to make contact with the physical world like any other being. Like he is still alive." Albus explained as Severus had to place his cup and saucer down – now empty – because his hands were shaking.

            "What – what do you mean, Albus?" Severus – very unlikely of him – stuttered with uncertainty. Albus' eyes were blue as the ocean as he caught Severus' to express his uppermost seriousness of the situation.

            "When I have spoken to Harry and talk to him long enough that he forgets where he is and what he is – he ceases to float and touches the ground." Severus' eyes almost popped out of his head. Ghost couldn't touch the ground! The floated everywhere  – even when they sat, they were floating above the seat! "There are also times that Harry will casually lean against something. Harry may appear as a ghost, but he is not completely one. I have seen the odd case of wandless magic from him on occasion as well." Albus paused.

            "I can't be certain of this Severus, but I don't think Harry is completely dead." 

            Silence filled the room.

            "What do – do you mean?" Severus choked. 

            "When wizards and witches die and become ghosts, they lose all their power and contact with the physical world – Harry hasn't. Somehow and for some reason, Harry still has contact with the physical world even though physically he is dead. It seems that for some reason Harry still has contact with his power. Thus there is no telling how much of it he can control, or if he is truly dead."

            "Merlin." Severus grabbed the pot of mint tea and promptly poured – and amazing didn't spill a drop even those his hand were shaking like leaves in the wind – a full cup. He then took a large mouthful as he digested what was just said. "But Harry died, Albus. I saw him die with my own two eyes. He had no pulse, no heartbeat and he wasn't breathing. Albus, he was dead."

            "You know as well as I do, Severus, that the myths of ghosts and magic has – and never well be – solved." Albus replied, taking a sip of his own tea. "Just as are the boundaries."

            "Ar you saying – ?"

            "I am saying, Severus, that maybe Harry is stronger then most ghosts and even though he is gone physically, still can use his magic. Thus there is no telling the end of his abilities. He may even be able to make himself physical again." With those words spoken, Severus dropped his cup and saucer.

            The cup and saucer smashed noisily to the ground, but Severus was uncaring as he gaped at the Headmaster of Hogwarts's. 

            There was a chance he could have Harry back again!

            All of Harry back!

            "Don't get too high of hopes, Severus. There is still a lot unknown and Harry may not be very willing to see – let alone try – to find his boundaries. Providing he has boundaries." Albus said, waving his hand as the cup and saucer quickly made themselves whole again and floated to the desk as the tea on the red carpet evaporated.

            "Or course not, Headmaster, but," Severus waved his hand as he straightened his face, "look at the possibilities in all senses. A ghost that still has his magic?"

            "Unusual, yes. But Harry Potter was never a usual boy, was he?" Albus asked with a smile as his blue eyes twinkled.

            "Never." Severus shook his head with a smirk.

            Maybe Harry Potter wasn't as dead as everyone thought after all.

**~*TBC*~**

A/N: So there ya go! Another part!

*winks* So does this answer a few of your questions. A few of you were catching on earlier. I guess my plot wasn't as secretive as I thought. *pouts*

Anyway, R&R please!

Smiles : )

CJ


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